


Our Most Significant Outsider

by Geonn



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Horror, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is pursued. But by what...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Most Significant Outsider

**Author's Note:**

> Snippet is from Episode 7, The Drawbridge

Carlos barely made it back into the house before he was overcome. He slammed the door shut with his shoulder and slid down, bearing up against it in a futile attempt to keep whatever was outside on the proper side of the door. He was sweating under his crisp white shirt, his tie askew, his curls clinging to the dark skin of his forehead as he struggled to catch his breath. He could hear thudding and thumps, the sound coming from all sides as if in a synchronized attack. He whimpered and pressed both hands to his forehead as bizarre lights flickered and flashed in the windows of the living room, and then the power went out completely. A voice outside moaned, low and mournful, and some might have said it was a coyote looking for food left in unattended garbage cans. But since when can coyotes say "Caaaaaaarlooooooooos?" He could hear his heart thudding above the sound of whatever was pressing against the outside of his moderately-priced rental house in the middle of Night Vale.

He heard a rattle at the back door and suddenly doubted whether he had locked it. But to check would be to leave the front door unattended, unprotected. Oh, God. He frantically cast about for a weapon, something with which to defend himself, and he saw that he could slide the bookshelf across the floor to block the front entrance while he went to check the back door. Yes! He pushed away from the door and grabbed the bookshelf, with both hands, hauling and heaving with desperation until the shelf tilted and toppled. He barely got out of the way before it crashed down hard enough to make the floor shake (or maybe his pursuers were coming at him from that direction now). He whimpered like a child at the thought and the soles of his very fine shoes skittered as he ran to check the back door. 

As he passed the radio, it flicked on. The display was a lone green eye in the otherwise powerless house, and Carlos was transfixed by the sight of it in the darkness. Despite the thudding outside, despite the tremor in his hands and the cold, cold sweat on his supple skin, Carlos could now ignore the tremors in the walls and ceiling and floors because the radio was on and HE was speaking...

_"We've had some power outages reported throughout Night Vale in the last couple of hours. If you're experiencing one... well, then you can't hear me, can you? The Night Vale municipal utility department said that they are still working to determine the cause of the outages, which are roving back and forth across town in a continuous motion, like a great pacing beast. Those whose neighborhoods have been hit by the outages reported--"_

Carlos found himself on his knees in front of the stereo, hands limp between his thighs, head tilted back as if in supplication. He wet his lips as he listened to Cecil. Ceeeeecil. His voice was a lighthouse in the haze, a safe harbor amid all the bizarre happenings. Cecil was beautiful in a horrifying way, intriguing in a manner that often made him wake gasping in the night for a multitude of conflicting reasons. His voice reached out of the dark and Carlos forgot about the rampage outside. He forgot about the mysterious town in which he'd found himself and which he oddly seemed unable to leave. At the moment, it didn't matter. Just as it didn't matter that a few townspeople claimed Night Vale Radio had never broadcast before his arrival in town, almost as if he brought the broadcast with him or - more alarmingly - as if his arrival had awakened something deep within the town that was determined to lull him into a false sense of comfort so he was less likely to leave. 

He was closer to the radio now. The green glow filled his vision. The voice filled his mind. He rested his cheek against the cool face of the machine and imagined it was Cecil's cheek (although he imagined Cecil would be warm. So... warm...)

The roaring continued outside.

The house continued to tremble.

Cecil continued to speak, and Carlos... listened.


End file.
